


palisades

by babyangel12



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 15:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyangel12/pseuds/babyangel12
Summary: set during theo and boris' reunion in nyc.





	palisades

Theo reels away from the table and makes a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring Boris' quiet but insistent protestations behind him. He ducks behind the door marked STAFF ONLY, letting it swing behind him, down a darker, cooler corridor towards a single stall bathroom tucked in a corner beside a fire exit. Theo knocks at the door, quick and agitated, and shoulders it open without really waiting for a response. He kicks the door shut with his foot and tries to breathe. In an attempt to steady himself, he braces himself over the small sink in the bathroom. A curl of hot arousal and shame descends through Theo's belly at the thought of Boris' words - _ you are the only boy I've ever been in bed with - I think you thought it was something else _\- and he thinks, bitter and longing, of Boris' body curled around him at night, Boris' lips brushing his bloody knuckles, Boris' hands grasping his face as he kissed him goodbye that night in Vegas. If anything, _ Boris _ had been the one to push those boundaries, to stumble over that bleary line. ____

_ _ _ _Theo grasps the cool porcelain in his hands, leaning forwards, refusing to meet his own eyes in the mirror that hangs above it. He gulps in a few hasty breaths, trying to steady his rolling stomach. He stares down at the tarnished gold faucet and the industrial size dispenser of hand soap until his vision blurs and he has to shut his eyes against the haze. The handle of the door rattles, briefly, and then there’s some quiet rustling, then the click of the lock and the creak of the door opening and shutting again, then a series of footsteps that stop right behind Theo. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Theo doesn’t open his eyes, not yet. He breathes in and out, inhaling the sweet heady smell of Boris’ cigarettes and vodka and cologne. It’s not making him feel anymore settled.He opens his eyes, catches Boris’ gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He goes to move away from the sink, straighten up, turn around and face Boris, but Boris seems to have other ideas as he crowds in closer behind Theo and curls firm hands around his wrists, holding them in place. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Boris hooks his chin over Theo’s shoulder, his chest flush with Theo’s back, his feet between Theo’s spread legs. “Keep them there,” he says quietly, squeezing Theo’s wrist for emphasis._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Boris- what-,” Theo manages to get out, pushing back into Boris’s torso, into his full body embrace like a cat straining into the stroke of a hand. His mouth sags slightly open as Boris turns his face into the side of his neck, tracing the tendons with his mouth. Boris’ left hand loosens its grip from Theo’s wrist and slides up to his jacketed elbow before brushing over his stomach, separated only by the cotton of Theo’s button-down. His stomach muscles contract as Boris’ hand slips lower, pulling his shirt loose from his pants, sliding back under to trace his bare skin.  
Boris’ breath is heavy against Theo’s neck as he descends even lower, brushing a palm over the obvious hardness in Theo’s pants and then retreating back to his lower stomach, tangling his fingers in the light trail of hair from his belly button to his cock. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Look at me,” he whispers, right into Theo’s ear, pulling Theo away from where he was hypnotized by Boris’ long pale fingers on him. Theo flicks his eyes up, catching Boris’ in the mirror. His gaze is hungry and hot. Theo exhales a shaky breath and lets himself sag further back against Boris, melting into his grasp. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Boris fumbles with Theo’s belt buckle, still staring hard at him in the reflection. All the muscles in Theo’s lower body clench in - anticipation? need? fear? as he hears the clink of it falling open followed by the metallic hiss of the zip of his pants. Theo bites down hard on his lower lip and Boris’ hand, firm and confident, pushes past the opening and into the waistband of his briefs. They’re so far from drunken, hazy rolling around on the floor in Vegas, and yet not at the same time, as Boris’ hand tightens further on Theo’s wrist and his fingers curl around the base of Theo’s half-hard cock. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’ll take care of you,” he says, soft and liquid, and Theo shudders as he starts to stroke, bringing him in an embarrassingly short space of time to full hardness. Boris pulls his hand away briefly - Theo lets out a whine of indignation - and spits in it, dips it back down so he can rub it slick and hot all the way up from the base of Theo’s cock where he’s getting himself wet._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It’s ok, Potter, I’m not going anywhere,” he mutters, hand moving in a steady, slow rhythm that’s making Theo’s mouth go dry, making his knees tremble.  
It doesn’t take long until Theo is gasping and fucking forward into Boris’ fist, teeth gritted and desperate to come. His eyes have gone half-mast, but when he grinds back unconsciously into Boris’ pelvis and feels his erection press into his ass they snap wide open again. They’re staring at each other once again, eyes burning into each other in the mirror. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Boris’ free hand unwinds from Theo’s wrist and slides under his shirt, tracing up over his stomach, his ribs, circling a nipple before smoothing down to his lower back. He grasps at Theo’s hip, anchoring him in place, urging him on and on and on until Theo is shaking and grunting and fucking desperate._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Come on Theo, come on, do it, I want to see,” he breathes against Theo’s neck, and it’s over, Theo’s done, spilling with a stifled groan against Boris’ large palm. Boris grins, those odd perfect new teeth glinting in the light, and presses a kiss to the skin just above Theo’s collar. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Theo’s head is spinning as he comes down, little aftershocks tremoring through him as Boris’ fingers continue to rub idly at the sensitive tip of his cock. He feels hollowed out, but not in a bad way, almost as if Boris putting his hand on him had quieted the numb, angry self-hatred that lives below his skin, if just for a while. He feels light - the aura of the orgasm still heady around him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Boris leans around him to switch the faucet on, rinses Theo’s come off his hand with a quick flick of the wrist. He looks pleased, turned on - smug, really, and goes to say something, mouth twisted up in a little half smile when Theo interrupts him._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Don’t act like you just did me a favour,” Theo says, voice low, staring at him in the glass reflection. “You wanted that just as much as I did,” he continues, tripping slightly on the words. The smug look on Boris’ face has faded now, his eyebrow still quirked up, but his mouth serious, his gaze flat and open and honest. He lets out a controlled huff of breath against the side of Theo’s face. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes. Yes I did,” he says, the teasing tone from before - “we were young, we needed girls,” completely gone from his voice. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And you want me to do that for you, too,” Theo says, quiet and hot. They’re still standing as they were when it started, Boris pressed up against Theo’s back, looking over his shoulder at the two of them in the mirror. Their reflection blends together behind Theo’s blurry glasses until it looks like they are sharing one body, a two-headed boy staring back at himself._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Well. Yes, Theo,” Boris replies, “this is a….. I scratch your back, you scratch mine kind of deal?”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Theo smirks at that, and then blushes - like a fucking teenager - at the sudden flash of Boris pressing him down into the mattress, Boris between his thighs, Boris’ back marked up with the lines of Theo tracing his nails up and down its length._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He extracts himself and turns in the circle of Boris’ arms, so they’re chest to chest now._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Come here, Boris, just- come here,” Theo says quietly, hands slipping up to cup Boris’ face. They’re alone here in the quiet dimly lit bathroom, no extenuating and traumatic circumstances drawing them towards each other’s mouths like magnets. Nothing to hide behind, no excuse for what they’re doing. Theo presses his lips softly once to Boris’, testing, tasting. Boris huffs against his face when Theo pulls back and then chases him, opens his own mouth, sucking Theo’s lower lip into it, tilting his head to the side so there’s no space between them._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They kiss like that for what feels like an hour, but could be five minutes, deep and fast and wet, hands sliding everywhere. Theo decides that the best way to take care of his side of the bargain is to drop to his knees on the bathroom floor so that he can pull Boris out and press his tongue against the leaking head of his dick. He does just that._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Boris is hard and salty and wet in his mouth as Theo bobs his head back and forth, sweat starting to prickle at the back of his neck. He pulls off to gasp against Boris’ thigh, out of his mind, and goes back down to with an inexpert but desperate slide of his tongue, following the vein to the base of his cock. His lips are starting to go numb, Theo realises, and he’s only just now getting a handle on inhaling and exhaling through his nose while his mouth is full when Boris starts to groan and his hand tightens in his hair._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Theo looks up when he realises how close Boris is, and digs his fingers into Boris’ thigh, steeling himself so he can push him deeper into his mouth. Theo fights the urge to gag around his cock and opens his mouth wider, spit dripping from the corner of his mouth._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Theo - Theo!” Boris gasps, and jerks, pulling out of his mouth but not fast enough - half his come lands on Theo’s tongue, the other splashed across his mouth. Theo licks his tingling lips, unthinking, and meets Boris’ dark, heavy gaze as he swallows down the bitter heaviness on his tongue. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Boris cradles Theo's face in his palms, a wild look in his eyes. He swipes his mess off of Theo's lips with his thumb. He yanks Theo to his feet unceremoniously, kisses the indignant grunt out of his mouth. Holds him so close that the world ceases to exist outside this tiny, dirty bar bathroom._ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> i basically just wanted to write some mildly angsty, closeted and yet horny grown up theo and boris... bon appetit


End file.
